


A Brush with Death

by The_Cluttered_Desk



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Backwater Swamp | The Pale Rose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-13 05:02:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20168593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Cluttered_Desk/pseuds/The_Cluttered_Desk
Summary: Dwight and the survivors try and escape the clutches of The Huntress in the old muddied swamps of Backwater. Will they make it out to see another day? Or will each of them taste their bloodied conclusion?





	A Brush with Death

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fan-fiction of Dead By Daylight, as well as my first fan-fiction of anything in years...It may not be that great but I sat for hours trying to come up with something worth reading. I hope it draws you into the perilous world of one round of life or death. Please Enjoy and leave feedback ^^

Dodging and ducking through branches, tripping over weeds. Dwight screamed in fear as a hatchet soar past his ear, the whipping of air resonating through his skull. The hill of the swamp sloped down and he slid upon some mud. In a frantic craze of hope, he threw his arms out to catch anything but landed face first in moistened dirt and vile mildew. Whatever pond or stream this had once been had nearly dried up to be infinitely disgusting and Dwight had just swallowed a great mouthful of it.

There was no time to think of the obvious diseases now. Not with that growl and incessant humming that stalked closer and closer. A sudden flash and bang from nearby tore his sight to look at a gathering of Typha and something working in the center. He knew it to be one of those generators, but he couldn’t see it without his glasses. “What are you waiting for? Get up!” A hushed voice, urgent and panicked came from his immediate left. Dwight had to strain to see for the figure was covered in mud and twigs. It was Claudette, the eccentric medical scientist of the odd group…or something of that caliber.

Dwight picked up his glasses, throwing them on his face with no care that the entire left lens was covered in muck. He stood fast only to fall again and whimper when something hard smacked into his leg. He saw the glistening hatchet being engulfed into the ground as if it sat on a single patch of quicksand, he never felt happier that Jake had given him that salt pouch.

Dwight ran until he saw a ferry. It was quite large but terribly broken in the places that matter. Though, it couldn’t really be used for much of an escape with no water to carry it onward anywhere. Lights flickered upon the deck and he knew someone must be repairing their freedom somewhere. Climbing the stairs, he saw her. Meg Thomas. Her French braids were easily recognizable and the fear drained from her face when she saw him. “Dwight?! Hurry up, help me with this!” She motioned for him to come and join her upon repairing the old generator. They never questioned why they were here, they just knew it was the only pain free relief from their periodical prison. Dwight scrambled over and quickly stuck his fingers into the machine. Two pistons from a set of four were pumping away on the top, halfway done already.

Now, understand that Dwight Fairfield was never one for mechanics. He was too busy trying to fit into high school that when an adult life came around, he was shoehorned into office work and never really did much with his time. An engineering or mechanics degree was possibly the last thing on his list…but damn had he wished he would have paid attention now. Aside from all that though, he knew he had to prove himself.

The terrifying humming was getting louder and he could see the color draining from Megs face. “Go. I’ll finish.”  
“Wh-What? No, it’ll be quicker if we work together.” She dismissed the thought and Dwight chewed the inside of his cheek.  
“You need to go! Find a gate. You’re quicker than I am.” This was the only group that had ever accepted him. He had to prove his worth. Be a leader! Meg slammed a fist onto the generator and knew he was right.  
“Fuck! Don’t die on me, promise?”  
“I promise. Now go!” Meg took off in a dead sprint, effortlessly vaulting over the side of the boat and hitting the ground with barely a grunt as she sunk into the mud some. Dwight focused all his attention on pulling wires and reattaching. Connecting circuits to things he knew no names for and only hoped it made some result. And results it did bring as the lights clicked on and the horn of the ferry blared loud enough to scare off every crow in the swamp. Dwight watched the sky come to life in leathery black wings until his vision was torn by a spare hatchet embedding itself into one of the lights of the generator. He squealed, throwing himself back on the molded wooden floor, glass and electricity raining down around him. Standing with the help of the rail, he looked down to see that horrifying broken bunny mask cock its head at him. Now was the time to run.

He could see Meg and Jake from across the swamp…three lights already shining from the power switch to the gate of their freedom. But, there’s no way he’d make it! That…_Huntress_, sat down and stared at him. She knew he was cornered and waited on him to make the first move. Why she hadn’t advanced at all was the only guess that she may very well be out of hatchets. Dwight looked around the top deck of the ferry and knew his options were limited. There were various ways off the boat but only two on. A whole in the center would help him drop to the floor below, but she’d be able to nap him quick. Lockers were a great diversion but at max, there were two or three on the ferry and she would find him eventually. With a shaken sigh, he crawled over the edge and fell into the reeds below.

The humming began, sounding more sinister as if coming through closed and smiling lips. The hunt was on. Dwight crept through the brush. As sparse as it was, he was grateful that this little clump led to a bigger one and then what he could only imagine used to be old docks. Maybe, if he could lead her in there…he’d be home free. The grass parted to the swing of an axe and Dwight stumbled on his back, brushing death. The Huntress screamed in anger as she missed and reeled up for another attack. Dwight kicked into the dirt to find some footing to stand and run but he was too late as her axe came down on his leg. The first strike of pain was immense and hot. His leg feeling like it was on fire as he pulled away and limped into the labyrinth under the docks.

His blood was no easy trail in the mud, but his whimpers of pain were able to be tracked. Dwight buried himself into a corner and looked over his wound. His slacks were torn through and a gash lay in the folds. He was bleeding profusely and hoped he wouldn’t pass out from it all. Tearing off his sleeve, he did his best to wrap the cut and move on. Painfully, he crawled over a window and threw himself to the side as he narrowly avoided another swing. Dwight was forcibly plunging each leg forward to get away and completely unbothered by the fire of pain that crawled through his entire leg. Over another a window he saw the gate and the others waiting for him. Just a few more steps, a few more limps and there was freedom! Dwight heard the angry snarl from the crazy masked hunter and screamed in fear as he knew his inevitable end was coming but, it was echoed by a grunt of pain as someone shoved him forward. He stumbled, hardly catching his footing and looked to see Jake running past him with a great tear into his back. “We’re not dead yet!” He shouted, grabbing Dwight’s arm and pulling him along. The Huntress reared up her arm to throw a deadly hatchet and Claudette came sprinting out of the exit gate and barreled into them. Jake and Dwight split from the sudden impact and Claudette screamed as her collar bone snapped in two. She ripped the weapon from her, and it burned to the touch. Falling from her grasp, the swamp floor swallowed it and they all bled their way out into the fog…running and crying until they could no longer hear the hum of that violent monster of a human.

They came onto a clearing, trees encircled it like it had always been there and a few tents lay scattered around a central hub of cut logs and a familiar campfire. Cans of food were almost like a reward stacked beside camping first aid kits and boxes of worn-out tools. They’d survived…for now.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really care for this ending...I feel as if I could add more and in truth, I may depending on if I like it enough to or if you, the reader, would like to see the story continue. Please remember to leave any feedback in parts that could be improved or even a comment of what you enjoyed. I look forward to reading it all ^^


End file.
